Do not lick the walls (Honestly)
by Aaymeirah
Summary: ""Hey, Crowley, I dare you to lick the walls," he said, just loud enough for the two file demons to hear and turn to look at him with interest. Crowley lowered his sunglasses just enough for his snake eyes to glare intimidatingly at the impudent Marquis." Or, Crowley was the first to lick the walls of Hell. In his defense, the Marquis de Sade dared him to do so.


When it came down to it, Crowley found Hell rather boring. Sure, the dammed currently slated for torture wouldn't think so, nor those demons tasked with doing the torturing. And the Princes of Hell certainly seemed to be if not content, then able to amuse themselves. But here in Hell, there were no susceptible humans to subvert through clever suggestions and ordinary frustrations. None of his favored possessions were here, and to top it off, the whole place was simply filthy.

Under usual circumstances, Crowley would have given his report on demonic affairs through the Hell-Earth communication channels or miracled a memo Below. This time was different, this time, his orders were to give his report on the new M25 in person. As such, he was left cooling his heels waiting for the demonic council of human temptations and enticements to convene and hear a report that would just leave the dark-age demons even more peeved than usual at him.

"Greetings Crowley," a voice called. Crowley turned around from the crack in the wall he was staring at, trying to decide whether it looked like an ape or a nebula, to see one of the damned souls ambling towards him.

"Marquis de Sade," Crowley acknowledged. He was a strange soul, that Marquis, and Crowley did not quite know what to think of him. They had met once when he was still alive. As per the Arrangement, Crowley was off to cure some inmate in the Asylum de Bicêtre of madness and had gotten sidetracked by the interesting conversation the Marquis provided.

"How are things up above?" the Marquis asked casually.

"The usual. Shouldn't you be getting punished for your sins or something?"

"I am. The demons of Lust saw I was enjoying things too much and sent me away, just when their animal pets were getting into it!"

"I see." The two of them stood side by side, staring at the moldy, filthy wall. Two lower-ranking file demons shuffled by. The Marquis de Sade smiled suddenly.

"Hey, Crowley, I dare you to lick the walls," he said, just loud enough for the two file demons to hear and turn to look at him with interest. Crowley lowered his sunglasses just enough for his snake eyes to glare intimidatingly at the impudent Marquis. The damned soul merely continued to smile challengingly, uncowed.

"What's the matter? You scared?" he taunted. Crowley made a noise of disgust.

"Of course not, I am, however, disgusted. Who the hell knows what is caked on the walls?"

"You're a demon, you all love gross and base things! I have the experience," the Marquis said with a hint of suggestiveness. What was Crowley supposed to do? Refuse a dare in front of witnesses? That would just be un-cool. Resolving to get it over with quickly, he walked to the wall and with a thought changed his human tongue to a long, forked one. With it, Crowley licked the wall. It was horrible, absolutely disgusting. The stench of unwashed bodies, dirt, mold, blood, and other substances combined and merged into a gut-twisting sensation of revulsion. He allowed himself a brief grimace before turning around casually and with hands opened wide said;

"That was easy. Why don't you try?"

"Fair enough. I'll even make my tongue solid." The Marquis licked the wall as if he couldn't taste anything at all on his temporarily corporal tongue. By this time a crowd of demons had gathered to watch the proceedings with curiosity. A perfectly demonic idea occurred to Crowley, and he turned to grin at the Marquis.

"I dare you all to lick the walls," he told the watching demons challengingly. As even the demons who lived in their filth shied away from the suggestion, the Marquis caught on and laughed.

"What's the matter, not demon enough to do it?" he said scornfully, echoing his previously effective taunt to Crowley. The fifty or so demons looked at one another. They had flocked here to be entertained, a rare thing in Hell, and they weren't so keen on being the entertainment themselves. A pig-snouted demon stepped forward.

"I'm not about to let some worthless damned human beat me." He licked the wall, squealing with disgust a moment later. This was the straw that broke the camel's back, the chink in the dam, the crack in the ice, for all the demons began to fight for space to lick the walls of Hell.  
Crowley gave the Marquis a significant look and they distanced themselves from the violent mob.

"Good going with the taunt there," said Crowley. He could acknowledge effective methods maturely!

"Nice idea to get the demons to lick the walls."

"Misery loves company." Crowley thought Aziraphale had said that once when they were both deep in their cups.

"Look at that one, with the ants crawling out of her eye sockets," the Marquis pointed and Crowley saw that a demon was crawling on all fours to try to reach the wall. He snickered despite himself.

"I think that cat-eared one is rather enjoying it," Crowley gestured to him as he licked the wall with relish, nearly plastered flat by others who wanted his spot. That was all it took for the Marquis to break out in helpless laughter, Crowley followed suit. This was certainly more interesting than staring at cracks in a wall.

"Crowley! What is the meaning of this?" Beelzebub came storming out of a conference room with flies buzzing in an angry cloud, and their small corporation quivering with anger. He stopped laughing abruptly.

"Got to run, I've got a flagellation session to attend," the Marquis muttered before slipping through the crack in the wall that Crowley could now see was a pineapple.

"Um, they wanted to see what the walls tasted like?" he hazarded.

"Those idiots can barely file a request to punish of their own volition. Someone put the idea in their puny little brains."

"Not me."

"Right," Beelzebub crossed their arms and started flatly at Crowley, "I'll deal with you later."

"Everybody! Do not lick the walls! I repeat, do not lick the walls!" The Power of a high-ranking demon imbued their words and the demons stopped as one.

"Leave now! Your shit-show of stupidity is over." Crowley was decidedly not laughing now. As the demons dispersed, Beelzebub turned back to Crowley, who smiled sheepishly.

"Conference room. Now," they commanded.

"What? I'm not in trouble? By the way, the Marquis de Sade started it."

"Oh you are certainly in trouble, I am quite annoyed at you.

"Oops?"

"You are going to make posters for every wall in Hell and they will say; DO NOT LICK THE WALLS." Internally, Crowley smirked. He had gotten off easy and had some fun! The proverbial smirk was wiped off his face when, as if reading his mind and determined to counter it, Beelzebub continued.

"Furthermore, you will have to hang them up yourself," they paused to let the embarrassing prospect sink in. "Are we clear?"

Already planning how to rope the Marquis de Sade into his punishment, Crowley nodded morosely.


End file.
